Divine love

Красивые стихи про Divine love на различные темы: о любви, стихи поздравления, короткие стихи, для детей и многие другие вы найдете в ленте поэтических публикаций нашего сайта.

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Don't leave me in all this pain
Don't leave me out in the rain
Come back and bring back my smile
Come and take these tears away
I need your arms to hold me now
The nights are so unkind
Bring back those nights when I held you beside me

Un-break my heart
Say you'll love me again
Undo this hurt you caused
When you walked out the door
And walked outta my life
Un-cry these tears
I cried so many nights
Un-break my heart
My heart

Take back that sad word good-bye
Bring back the joy...

Экстази взрыв,
Один за одним,
Оргазм раненье тел внутри. Неудовл лечи!

Well ive been sitting thinking of your smile and all of your perfect solutions and getting drunk with the boys just don't cut, fills you full of illusions.

"Создай восторг, нескучай" - тебя я очень жду: "твоих губ волне внутри во мне растворите"... радость на лице светнесс (-ness [nes] или [nis]) с друзьями выпить но не спать... "иллюзив вне себя ощутите".

I'm always tired and sometimes stale, its like a job at...

Spring Victory, joy and love
Hurry home, I go back again --
Home, home, home, home, home,
Europe, we will leave behind,
Home, home, home, home, home,
Europe, we will leave behind ...


That's behind us, a terrible war
Thing of the past, rejoice country --
Home, home, home, home, home,
Europe, we will leave behind,
Home, home, home, home, home,
Europe, we will leave behind ...


Dear, dear motherland you met,
We all remember this bright May --
Home, home, home, home, home...

"Но музыка сильна" -
она преодолела
препятствия в Любви
и трогательный хмель
её летел туда,
где не было предела
для самых светлых чувста
и не было вреда...
****** Love is love! ******

Jeder wird nach Deutschland zu gehen.
So what's the reason of a such absurd desire
Sagen alle das Mutterland auf wiedersehen.
Though all the world in now burning in a fire!

The Flame of long-expected Spiritual Awakening,
Das Feuer der goettlichen Menschen Sternen.
What nation was the most of it caretaking
Wer die Absicht geoeuBert, zu lernen

Dies ist eine Revolution des Lebens, Kameraden!
And humans of every possible aura color
Are ready for changes of the Divine Installer...

The true religion hides within yourself.
You will reveal it by a true divine will,
Breaking up all mind's lies and shelf,
But having clear look still...

It's not about special section and dogmatics.
It's free and beneficial just for you.
For me - to make the world so enlightened,
That it will come united perfect view.

Oh yes, there are some true and magic moments,
Higher than a usual life itself.
Aura, angels, energy of glory...
As well as it is atom and your health...

If there is something
You cannot accept,
Stiuation, Existence Part, Man,
Take yourself in a loan.
As here you had never stood.
No time - no space - no mood.
So nothing would have been left.
Objectivise it, feel the Power of Plan...
The Universe is a smiling eternal cleft
In God's Divinity's Holy's Infinite's boots.
And Go On... Go on... Go on... Searching Your Higher Self.

I got class, I got style,
You're in love, you want me to stay for a while
I will be the man by your side, "Mister Right".
Got no heart, got no soul,
It's so cold, I'll let you think that you're in control
It's a game you just can't win, you can't win, just remember:

I'm no Romeo, I'm no Romeo
Just a gigo-gigolo, gigo-gigolo
Cause it's nothing but a game, nothing but a game
I'll leave you cryin' in the rain, cryin' in the rain
I'm no Romeo, I'm no Romeo
I'm just a gigolo, I'm no...

This day
Has brought forgotten fears…
My rain
Has wanted to calm me tears…
He beat off the rhythm in pools…
It were so beautiful tunes…

My rain
Sang songs about love…
And they
Helped soul to rise above…
And I spoke my thanks the rain
That have come to me again…

My way
So it is long for me...
This rain
Will allow us to meet,
To open for new love games
Umbrella of our happy days...

Елена Ольховик
2011 год

Для редактора,
озабоченного передовицей,
он никто, какой-то Джон Мильтон,
затерявшийся на литературной обочине.

Актриса глицериновую слезу
из-за него не проливала ни разу.

О нем хранит молчание
радио и телевещание.

Нет ни досье, ни файлов секретных.
Нет псевдонимов народу известных.

Никому не интересно
узнать его настоящее имя.

Жив ли он, мертв ли он,
не проверяет никто.

Возможно в чулане
детективы найдут его труп
с разбитым лицом,
с открытыми глазами...

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